God's Goodness

Tuis! …and a Bellbird

January 1, 2021 // Esther Filbrun 2 Comments

Well, I’ve been writing a good many blog posts in my head, but haven’t managed to get any onto digital paper yet. Perhaps this one will make it there—we’ll see!

Life has been full. Full and wonderful.

My job working with a disabled girl finished at the beginning of November, and aside from a few trips, I’ve been home ever since. Three people in our family have had medical emergencies in that time, one requiring a three-night stay in the hospital (!), so my time home certainly hasn’t been dull! But there have been some beautiful moments, too.

And one I’d like to share with you today is…the tuis!

Two years ago, the New Zealand native flax bush just outside our dining room window bloomed. We had a profusion of birds come through that year to suck the nectar—tui, bellbird, wax eye, sparrow, starling, just to name a few. It lasted for about a month, and it was the most lovely experience to have the birds feeding within a few feet of where we stand at the windows!

A year ago, I was disappointed that the flax bushes didn’t bloom (still don’t know why; do they have a biannual schedule or something?).

But this year, they are blooming again! And for the most part, the tui have been harvesting them. We have seen the occasional starling, sparrow, or bellbird come through, but the tui have been far and away the most common. Sometimes, we’ll get up to three at once out there, but generally only one. If there are two fairly close together, one or both end up fluffing their feathers out and giving the other a good scolding, which in turn generally sends one or the other away in a hurry!

Notice the orange increasing on their heads as the season progressed? That’s when the flowers opened up more, and the pollen was released.

And then I was able to get a couple pictures of a bellbird!

Here’s a picture of two of them fighting about who gets to stay to eat (even their fighting language is musical, though).

It’s been a lovely experience the past month to get to watch these beautiful birds so close-up. This is one time I’m thankful we have great big bushes fairly close to the house!

Faithful in All Seasons

September 1, 2020 // Esther Filbrun Leave a Comment

It was a warm, windy day here when I got back to North Canterbury on Sunday afternoon. Today, rain is coming through in gusts, with a definite chill in the air heralding a southerly wind pushing up from south of New Zealand. Some parts of the island have had snowfall, and though we aren’t supposed to get any due to our low altitude, you can definitely tell from the air that it’s somewhere around! I’m looking forward to tomorrow, when the clouds roll away and I can get a glimpse at the hills and mountains surrounding us—I expect they will be quite beautiful!

It’s amazing how life follows the same patterns weather does—sometimes, things are bleak and shot-through with sorrow, and other times, sunlight comes in on the gentle wings of a breeze, coaxing the daffodils and hyacinths into the full, rich blossom of springtime.

When I went home a week ago, the tree outside my bedroom was a mass of dark greeny-grey branches and twigs. Now, little clusters of light green have sprung from what looked lifeless, and the tree’s branches are suddenly a haze of growth and beauty.

These past weeks haven’t been easy, for a variety of reasons, but you know—the Lord is so faithful. Even when I feel like I’m distanced from Him, that I can’t get much out of His Word, He still reaches through and touches me.

I’ve been blessed to be part of a HelloMornings study group for the past two weeks, and one question about a week ago was, what songs do we cling to in hard times? I shared a couple from my “Valley of Hope” playlist—one compiled years ago—and was reminded of just how faithful the Lord has been over the years.

When we walked through losing my brother, He held us up.

When Mom miscarried little ones we were looking forward to meeting, He held our hands—and even provided a rainbow in the sky on our way into the hospital the last time!

When my youngest sister was born, our joy in His goodness overflowed.

When I struggled to give up my idea in preference for what He was asking from me, He gave me the grace to say “yes”.

When a hoped-for journey came to an abrupt end, He gave peace.

Whatever you’re facing, friend, I hope you will keep your hope and trust in the Lord today. No matter what your current weather season is, He will always bring life and hope again!

And, for your enjoyment and perhaps encouragement, here is my “Valley of Hope” playlist.

What songs touch you when you’re walking through hard things? Comment below; I’m always on the lookout for other encouraging ones!

A Sunrise Reminder

April 15, 2020 // Esther Filbrun Leave a Comment

It feels like winter has suddenly arrived these last three days, with chilly-almost-enough-to-frost mornings, windows covered in condensation, and the warm woodfire-heated air that you just can’t beat.

It’s the season for fluffy socks, thicker blankets, outer wraps for a while in the mornings, and book reading. Lots of book reading (or at least I can dream, right…?).

We aren’t in winter—yet—but it’s been knocking on the door, saying it’s on its way.

We had our first winter storm system come through two days ago, with the cold wind blowing up from the south, rain beating against the sides of the house, and later, three or four different thunderstorms that passed over, leaving a few rumbles and more rain in their wake.

Then, yesterday morning as I settled into the couch for my Bible time, facing the westward windows looking toward the Paparoa Ranges and my favorite view at sunset, I saw this:

…and I decided that that seat wasn’t just my favorite at sunset. It’s also my favorite for sunrise, though my back is to the east.

We hadn’t gotten a lot of rain the night before (or maybe I just didn’t hear it?), but there was the most beautiful skiff of snow on the mountains—the first snow of the season. And I got to watch it with the sunrise colors playing along the peaks, before the fog from the river rose to meet the sunshine and blocked our view.

What a gift.

In this time of uncertainty, knowing that things might never be totally the same again, let’s look to the One who is certain. Our Rock.

“The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.” —Psalm 18:2

What parts of nature are you enjoying at the moment? Are you reminding yourself of some of God’s special attributes right now, too? If so, which ones?

In Honor of the Resurrection

April 14, 2020 // Esther Filbrun Leave a Comment

He is RISEN!

Such beautiful, beautiful words—but with glory behind them, because our Savior wasn’t trapped in the tomb that day 2,000 years ago. He conquered death once and for all. Hallelujah!

Today, I thought I’d share a few songs our family sang on Resurrection Sunday. They were a great blessing to me, and perhaps they will be to you, as well.

First up: A song that I was singing all morning while doing dishes, but then couldn’t find a version I liked later, when I wanted to share it with the family (my aunt later shared this one, which I loved; she, and several from her family, are part of the singing group here). We haven’t sung this particular one as a family, but I’ve heard it many times and loved it each time.

This is a long-time favorite of mine:

Hallelujah!

And lastly, a favorite I haven’t sung in FAR too long!

He lives! Let’s live with this reminder at the forefront of all we do!

What are some of your favorite resurrection songs?

Hope After Suicide

February 10, 2020 // Esther Filbrun 4 Comments

I saw a Facebook post today by an old friend who mentioned two family members who had taken their lives in as many months. He was appealing to people to reach out to others—to share their pain, so they could find help before going to such extremes.

And reading it, I saw the weight of grief behind each word. The longing that something could have changed before it was too late.

I know. I know what it’s like.

And I don’t know what to say, other than “Oh, Lord, please be with that family.”

I was listening to the Compelled podcast last week, and one of the stories (here’s part 1 and part 2) I heard was of a couple, Rob and Heidi Fuller, who were unable to have biological children and ended up adopting. They also had a miscarriage part way through their journey, which further brought them grief.

During that time, she wrote a song that has connected with me deeply even before I heard her story. This video is Rob and Heidi singing the song together.

We have to rest in the fact that He knows—even though we wish things could have turned out so very differently, He knows what’s best.

And for all of you who are struggling—reach out to someone, please. You are so loved, and so valued, even if you can’t see it. You’re one of God’s precious children. I pray that you’ll be able to find someone you can share with who will point you back to Jesus and give you His hope. Because He loves you far more than you could ever believe.

The Springtime of Joy (Poem)

October 21, 2019 // Esther Filbrun 2 Comments

It was beautiful, down the valley,
Where the wild gorse grows,
Beautiful in the sunshine,
Where the river’s current flows.

Beautiful in the splendor
Of a clear springy day,
Beautiful as the willow brush
The fresh wind did play.

But deep within the beauty,
Where no eye has ever seen,
Lay the sorrow of a winter,
The drought before the spring.

For once upon a mountain,
The place wilderness only knows,
There lay a pall of darkness
Under winter’s heavy snows.

Cold winds did lash her,
Frigid temperatures in the dark,
And, stumbling, in the gloaming,
Her heart was torn apart.

But now spring has brought her
Out of winter into light,
And the place that once was barren
Now blooms from what was night.

Those who heard her sighing
In the darkness of the past
Are now singing and rejoicing
At the light that’s come at last.

So join with me in praising
If the darkness lingers yet,
For beyond the wings of sorrow
Lies a path to joys unmet.

Dedicated to those who have walked the valley of sorrow, whatever it may be. It’s only the beginning, for beyond the winter, there is the new hope of spring!